The Story That Might Be
by Freja Lercke-Falkenborg
Summary: I think we all know the feeling: We're dying to get our hands on book 7 and at the same time we have a mortal fear of the moment when we finish reading the last word. Well, here's the solution: Leave Deathly Hallows be and read this fic instead...


_Disclaimer_: I'm not J.K. Rowling and I don't own Harry Potter. For that, I'm eternally grateful.

_Thousands of thanks_ go to my Beta 'From The Silent Planet', who has kindly made sure this fic didn't get posted in 'Danglish'.

**

* * *

PETUNIA'S SECRET**

A door creaked. Light came from inside the house and fell upon a neatly kept garden. Someone stepped out and stood for a moment and just breathed deeply in and out.

Slowly, he squatted down and put his head in his hands as if trying to draw strength from the quiet night. He sat like that for a while, his black, messy hair almost blue in the moon light.

The moon passed behind a cloud, and he rose, his movements slow and lithe as if the cool night air and the faint smell of sleeping plants made him forget the tensions that often resided in his muscles.

He was, of course, Harry Potter; orphaned as a one-year-old, predestined to save the wizarding world, and a student of Hogwarts that had decided not to return. He would think about these things too, but not yet. For a few moments, he'd just enjoy this quiet summer night.

* * *

-Happy birthday, dear Harry…

Harry woke to something he'd never heard before: Someone other than himself singing him a birthday song. Two persons, to be exact. Sure, one of the voices spoke more than sang, and the other was distinctly off-key and didn't seem to be familiar with the tune, but that didn't really matter.

-Happy birthday to you!

The song ended probably several notes lower than it should have, but Harry couldn't care less as he was violently hugged by Hermione and got a present thrown at his head by Ron.

-Guys…two seconds to adjust to the world of the living, please.

Surprisingly, they backed off until he had sat up and gotten his glasses on. Then he grinned at them.

-Thanks a lot. Have a seat, but please be quiet. You're going to wake up the Dursleys.

At this Hermione scowled and crossed her arms and Harry wished he hadn't mentioned them.

Ron hadn't been friendly with the Dursleys at any time, but Hermione had tried her best to be polite until Harry had answered her truthfully when she asked why there were breathing holes in door to the cupboard under the stairs. Since then, she had been cold and at times rude towards the family, and it had come to a point were Harry desperately wanted to leave the house.

-Please Hermione, he said tiredly

-Can't you back down a bit?

His otherwise calm and collected friend was acting very out of character.

-Absolutely not, Harry! What they did to you is unforgivable, and I've heard the way they talk to you when they think Ron and I don't listen. Not even a dog should be treated that way!

He supposed he should have been prepared for it. Hermione had always been quite aggressive when it came to injustice.

-I know, Hermione, but it's also thanks to them that I have been safe from Voldemort the last sixteen years. I won't say my feelings towards them are thankful, but couldn't we just concentrate on …you know, the greater evil we are up against?

-But Harry, don't you see that people like these relatives of yours _are_ the greater evil? Look at all our enemies! Do you think they are born evil? I don't, I believe they were treated with that kind of neglect and hatred while growing up. Actually... she suddenly stopped as if struck by a big thought and a frown appeared in her forehead.

-The only thing I don't get is how you managed to end up so…normal. That shouldn't really be possible, you know.

Harry couldn't come up with a good comment to that, so he just shrugged and made her promise to try to be a bit calmer around the Dursleys.

* * *

Most of Harry's birthday had passed with packing and planning and the Dursleys ignoring it as usual. Late afternoon Uncle Vernon and Dudley went for a boxing match that Dudley was participating in, and said they wouldn't be returning until late night.

When Harry informed them that he'd probably be gone when they returned, Dudley just smirked and Uncle Vernon looked at him with barely hidden glee.

-Really? Remember to clean your room properly. I won't have any _freakish_ things forgotten somewhere!

Then the two marched out the door. Harry wouldn't have been surprised to see smoke coming out Hermione's ears and Ron's fingers twitched in a funny way that suggested he longed to grab his wand.

* * *

Aunt Petunia acted funnily for the rest of the afternoon. She seemed nervous and kept looking at Harry only to quickly avert her eyes when anybody noticed.

Now the three were ready to leave and stood with their luggage. Harry looked at his aunt and noticed for the first time ever that her nose looked exactly like his own.

-Well, er, goodbye then, Aunt Petunia.

She just stood, wringing her hands and looking down. Ron opened the door and Hermione reached for her trunk. Then suddenly Petunia seemed to make a decision.

-Harry?

Her voice was quiet and it took a couple of moments for Harry to register that she actually said something. When he looked expectantly at her, she seemed to hesitate before blurting out:

-Could…could we talk?

He looked uncertainly at his friends. According to their time plan they should have left by now, but nobody expected them at a certain time and the three silently agreed to wait.

-Sure, Aunt Petunia. Eh, is it private, or…? He motioned towards Ron and Hermione and his aunt suddenly slipped back to her normal behaviour and strictly ordered them inside the kitchen.

-Sit, she snapped.

Then her nervousness returned. And yet, there was something different as well. Perhaps she gained some confidence from the kitchen which was her pride and home ground, or perhaps she realised that this was probably the last time she would ever see Harry.

She looked at him again, this time without looking away, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if she too was noticing the likeness of their noses.

-I was Lily's secret keeper, she said suddenly.

She might as well have started singing opera, the effect it had on the three wizards was the same: Complete and petrifying shock. She didn't stop to look at them, she just continued in the same quiet and soft voice that Harry had never heard before.

-She asked me when she realised things were getting out of hand.

It was almost like hearing another person, or perhaps the memory of somebody purposely forgotten and hidden away.

-I…I'm not entirely non-magical, what do you call it…mugglish…

Her voice died away in a murmur.

Harry was too shocked to even try to ask questions. The soft voice returned as if it had forgotten they were there. It sounded like it came from afar, from decades away, just a ghost of something that was once somebody's history.

-He was black, Leo, my cat. I wanted to hold him, but he scratched me. I really wanted to hold him and suddenly he was stiff as a board. But I didn't want him to die!

There was something so utterly lost about the voice that now sounded like a child's, like it had been ripped away from the past to tell the present of old mistakes.

-I knew it was my fault, and I knew it wasn't because I had held too tight.

The voice was almost hysteric by now, and still with the air of sharing secrets with itself. Close to mad, actually.

-Bury it, hide it away, never feel the tingle in my fingertips again!

She took a couple of ragged breaths, then continued.

-He came, that man with the long beard, Dumbledore, to ask Lily questions. I didn't know who he was at the time, but I was afraid he'd feel the evil in me. I was scared of him; I just wanted him to go away. All he wanted was to speak with Lily anyway. He looked at me once and I felt so…contaminated. I decided to forget the mystical power I had in me, and never think about it again.

-And so I did.

The last part came out in her adult voice, the child forced back to sleep. She continued in the soft voice, devoid of all bitterness and pretend.

-Lily got her letter. Apparently I had succeeded in squashing my magical power. I don't think it was especially strong anyway, I never felt it again, apart from…but I'll get to that later. Lily was good, _she_ didn't kill cats. I was jealous, but I also thought I deserved what I got, or rather didn't get…slowly, I simply forgot that I had ever felt any tingle in my fingertips, and started living like a normal person. I never stopped feeling that strange mix of admiration and jealousy I felt for Lily. When she married, I was happy for her, thought she deserved all the happiness she got. But I was also jealous. I wanted what she had.

-Oh, not your father, she said when she noticed Harry's lifted eyebrows,

-No, I liked James, but not like that, and eventually I came to resent him because he'd taken Lily away and couldn't protect her. No, I wanted what those two had together. It wasn't just because they were so much in love, they also shared some sort of…companionship. As if they were ready to face whatever the world would throw their way because they had already faced the worst and survived it together.

They had indeed done just that, Harry knew.

-Thrice, he replied hoarsely with the word of the prophecy. To his great surprise, she seemed to understand what he meant.

-No, only twice at the time. They defied him for the third time after they had married.

Harry looked sharply at his aunt. It was one thing that she knew what he meant when he said 'thrice', that she also used the word 'defied' seemed like a bit too much of a coincidence. 'Escaped' would have been a lot more logical choice. She just smiled at his inquisitive look.

-Oh, I know about the prophecy. Lily told me. I think she guessed that my story about the cat just suddenly dying wasn't true. I think she figured out it was magic. She used to look at me sharply whenever that story was brought up. Much like you're doing now, in fact.

He was indeed staring at her intently as if trying to absorb her story with his eyes as well as his ears.

-You have her eyes, did you know that? Every time I look at you, I'm reminded of my sister and how she gave up her life to protect you. I couldn't forgive you for that for a very long time. Perhaps I haven't now, but it doesn't matter. There are things you need to know. When she learned of the prophecy, she told me immediately. We were relatively close at the time, though few knew. Vernon didn't really like her, so we used to meet somewhat in secret. When she learned of the prophecy and realised that she was probably in danger, she told me we needed to pretend that we didn't know each other. She wanted us to cut all ties, so nobody would suspect me of having anything to do with her. To protect me. And to protect her secret.

As I told you, I was her secret keeper. I accepted that day. That day I felt my magic for the first time in so many years. It's called the Fidelius charm, but I suppose you've been taught about that.

She sounded tired now, like all the ripping up in the well forgotten past had exhausted her.

-Room of Requirement. Strongbox.

When nobody reacted, she repeated it and added:

-She told me that I could only tell it if somebody managed to convince me that they needed the knowledge to help fight against Voldemort. From the prophecy and what I've heard you discuss, I think you fit the description.


End file.
